


be still my foolish heart

by extasiswings



Series: a better fate [3]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, Medical Emergency, Miscommunication, Multi, confession of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: Wyatt Logan loves Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston. Garcia Flynn and Lucy Preston love Wyatt Logan.  The only problem?  They may have forgotten to tell him that.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan, Pre-Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan/Lucy Preston
Series: a better fate [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/960678
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of copying over prompts I filled on tumblr to ao3, SO! This is set sometime in the indeterminate future in which Lucy and Flynn are married and Wyatt has been pining from afar without realizing they also love him.

Maria is two years old when she ends up in the hospital.

It was no one’s fault—at least, that’s what Wyatt’s been repeating for hours as Flynn has spiraled through a series of episodes worse than Wyatt’s seen since the night Maria was born—she was playing in the backyard and ate a wild mushroom growing by the fence in the briefest moment when Flynn turned away from watching her to answer a question. His eyes were off of her for maybe thirty seconds, but kids—they can find ways to get in trouble in any length of time.

“Hey,” Wyatt says, gripping Flynn’s shoulders hard as they stand in the stairwell at the hospital. “Garcia. Hey, listen to me. She’s fine. They already said she’s gonna be fine, remember? They’re giving her some charcoal and whatever and just want to keep her for observation as a precaution. She’s fine.”

Flynn exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t have—Christ, it’s my—”

“It’s not your fault,” Wyatt repeats for the millionth time. “Would you be saying that if Lucy had been watching her? No. She’s a kid, Garcia. Kids do stupid things. You’re not a bad parent just because you didn’t manage to prevent it this one time. “

Flynn takes a deep breath, lets out another shaky exhale, but his eyes are clearer when he looks at Wyatt again.

“Fuck,” he swears, raking a hand through his hair, his other coming up to grip Wyatt’s arm like he needs the extra stability to stay upright. “Lucy. I need to—”

“I already called her. She’s on her way. And Rufus and Jiya are watching Ethan. Everything’s taken care of.”

Flynn gets a strange look in his eyes as he stares for a long moment, long enough that the back of Wyatt’s neck heats under the scrutiny.

“You really did all that?”

Wyatt shrugs, feeling strangely wrong-footed. His eyes dart away, unable to hold Flynn’s gaze.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says. “I—look, I l—I care about you, and Lucy, and those kids, I—“ He cuts himself off before he can dig himself a deeper hole. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is though,” Flynn replies, and his voice is soft. “Wyatt…”

For all that he thinks it may very well be a bad idea, Wyatt looks up again, and his breath catches. Because Flynn is looking at him like he—like he—and fuck, when did they get so close?

“Garcia…?”

There’s a beat, a breath, and then without warning, Flynn kisses him.

Wyatt gasps into it, his grip tightening on Flynn’s shoulders, pulling him closer even as a voice at the back of his head tells him he should really push him away. It’s messy and rough and yet it’s spine-meltingly good nonetheless, and Wyatt can’t help himself, not when he’s wanted it for so long—

A door slams on another floor and Wyatt wrenches back, startled, breathless, and stunned.

“Wyatt—”

His phone rings, too-loud in the echoing stairwell. Lucy.

Wyatt shoves it at Flynn without a thought. “You should—you should answer. I should—”

“Wyatt—”

“I’m gonna go check on Ethan, see if Rufus and Jiya need anything,” he rambles. He doesn’t think, doesn’t have any sort of plan, just turns on his heel and runs. When he gets to his truck, he puts his forehead on the steering wheel and presses his fingers to his lips. If he tries, he can still taste the kiss.

Fuck.


	2. II.

It takes Wyatt about half an hour of driving around aimlessly and seriously considering the logistics of never dealing with The Kiss™ to remember three very important facts.

1) He left his phone with Flynn.  
2) He lives in Flynn and Lucy’s house.  
3) He really, genuinely does need to see for himself that Maria is okay.

The first two, he could take care of with a credit card and his truck, go on a spontaneous road trip and not come back. But the last, no. Which really, is one thing that’s been a problem the whole time, isn’t it? Lucy and Flynn and their kids are Lucy and Flynn and their kids. Wyatt may have been living with them since just after Ethan was born, may have become the friend, the uncle, the live-in babysitter or whatever, may have spent that whole time madly in love with both Flynn and Lucy, but he’s not a parent. He’s not really, technically, family. But it feels like it. And Ethan and Maria have hooked themselves into his heart like they’re meant to be there, right alongside their parents.

So, no. He can’t just leave.

Which is why, after another half hour, he does exactly what he said he would. He goes home.

“You okay, man?” Rufus asks as soon as the preliminary questions— _Is everyone okay? What did the doctor say? Etcetera_ —are out of the way.

“I’m—” A half-hysterical laugh bubbles up out of Wyatt’s throat. Because what is he supposed to say? _Flynn kissed me, and it was everything I’ve wanted for four years but it makes no goddamn sense?_ “It’s just been a hell of a day.”

“We can stay if you need—”

Wyatt shakes his head. “It’s okay. There’s no reason you two shouldn’t get to sleep in your own bed. I can sit up with Ethan if he needs it until everyone gets back. If they come back tonight, I don’t know. Either way, we’re all good here.”

“You sure?” Rufus presses. “Because you look really weird right now.”

“Just the day,” Wyatt insists. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

Rufus hums like he very much doubts that conclusion, but lets it go. And when he and Jiya finally leave, Wyatt sits with Ethan for an hour until the young boy falls asleep, and then he goes back downstairs and collapses on the couch.

As he stares up at the ceiling, in the too-quiet house, anxiety creeps in, squeezing his chest. Thoughts of the worst case scenario, of Lucy finding out and throwing him out, of him never getting to see the kids again, of losing his best friends—oddly, that’s what brings him up short.

Because it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense that Garcia Flynn, the poster man for being the perfect husband, would do anything to risk screwing up his marriage. And despite himself, Wyatt thinks back over four years, thinks about casual touches, about looks that he always thought meant nothing, thinks about things that seem much more intimate in the right light, from both of them—Flynn and Lucy—and as ridiculous as it seems to even hope, to even wonder—is it possible? Is it possible he’s been missing something this whole time? 

He scrambles up at the sound of keys in the lock, his pulse kicking up as his heart pounds in his chest.

Flynn stops in the doorway, exhaustion in every line of him. He’s alone.

“Lucy still at the hospital?” Wyatt asks to break the ice.

“Yeah,” Flynn acknowledges. “She said I was annoying the nurses. And that I should—”

He cuts off and rubs a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes flicking away.

“That you should…?” Wyatt prompts.

“That I should talk to you anyway,” Flynn finishes.

Wyatt swallows hard. “You told her then. About…”

“Yeah.”

“And was she—”

“She was, ah, pretty irritated,” Flynn admits. “But not—not for the reasons you might think. It’s just that we—we had a plan, we were going to talk to you together, and instead I—well.”

The small beacon of hope that had twisted its way into his chest before glows the smallest bit brighter.

“You were going to talk to me together,” he repeats. “About what? About you kissing me?”

Flynn’s hesitation bleeds away as he rolls his eyes, and just like that they feel back in familiar territory.

“We were going to talk to you about how we’re both in love with you.”

And somehow, all Wyatt can think to say is—“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Flynn crosses into the room and it’s like the air drains out of it. All Wyatt can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as his mind clings to that phrase—We’re both in love with you—and his heart squeezes in his chest. Flynn settles down next to him gingerly, like he’s trying not to spook a horse, and Wyatt might laugh if he could breathe at all.

“Really?” He asks, when he can make himself speak, and Flynn’s the one who laughs then, quiet and low as their eyes meet.

“Really.”

Wyatt’s fingers tremble faintly as he reaches for Flynn’s cheek, as his eyes drop to his mouth.

“Yes,” Flynn adds, answering a question Wyatt hasn’t even been able to make himself ask. “You can. If you want.”

At the hospital, the kiss was sudden and firm. Now, Wyatt leans in slowly, unsure even after being given permission. He kisses in halting stages, brushing his mouth against Flynn’s and pulling away after each pass, unable to help the way his eyes flicker up in silent question— _Is this right? Is this good? Is this really okay?_

And Flynn just curves his hand around Wyatt’s cheek and closes the distance again and again and again.


End file.
